


Love

by bottledspirits



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottledspirits/pseuds/bottledspirits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle seeks help for the most painful of afflictions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love

He spotted a blue hood on the road below and grinned. It seemed he would have company today. He liked when they came to him, rather than sending a message.

It was much easier to keep people on their toes in his tower, his territory. They would stare at the bottles on his work table as if they contained untold horrors - some did - and watch his every move as if he meant to jump at them the instant they dropped their guard.

He would do no such thing, of course. But it didn’t hurt to have them afraid of him.

~

Belle kept her shoulders straight and her head high as she walked up the road. It would do no good to show fear, not now she’d come so far. 

But she was afraid. The forest frightened her. There were no animals - not even the distant twittering of birds that she was accustomed to hearing when she ventured into the woods near her father’s castle.

She could not remember exactly when the road had seemed to change. It certainly had not been like this before the last town. She had stopped to ask one of the villagers if they knew the way to the castle, and the looks she had received were a mixture of pity and fear. It was no surprise, seeing this lonely place. She only wondered how they could bear to live so close to these woods.

Her first glimpse of the castle over the trees gave her stomach a turn. She would not turn back, but she could not help a sense of foreboding. It was if she was walking toward something she could not escape.

Belle shook her head. She was being silly. There was nothing dark about this place, no matter what people said of it. She could see a bright flag fluttering in the wind atop one of the towers. It looked almost cheerful in the morning sun. 

There. She would think of good things. The sun was shining, the wind was not too strong, and the path that had been so steep for a while had finally evened out so that her way was almost level, but for a slight incline that would bring her to the top of the mountain.

The trees began to thin. She was surprised to see a dusting of snow on the ground - but then, so high up, was it any wonder that winter had yet to retreat from this place? Spring had only just come to the valley below.

She could see her breath around her. The cold air burned in her lungs, but she felt so awake. It was good the air was crisp, she told herself. She would not want to come to this place without having all her wits about her. From what she had heard of the castle’s owner, she would need them.

Just as she was beginning to wonder how far she had yet to walk, the castle appeared on the slope. Belle stopped to catch her breath. It was as good a chance as any to admire the place. 

The castle was beautifully kept - the path had been swept of snow, and what greenery there was on the grounds was well tended. She noticed the flags flying from the towers - bright and colorful, without a tatter to be seen. They must have been placed there very recently.

It was a pretty picture, tucked amid the high peaks as it was. Belle found herself wondering what it would be like to live in a place like this. She had lived in a castle all her life, but that was a crumbling ruin compared to this splendor. She almost envied whoever lived here.

But she could not afford to delay. Belle gathered what strength she had left after her long journey and moved briskly up the path. She felt the tingle of the cold air on her skin, but there was something else, a kind of awareness as one feels when being watched. Her eyes were drawn toward one of the towers. 

Belle swore she could make out a figure in one of the windows, but it was so far off that she could not be certain. Just as she was quite sure there was something there, watching her as she no doubt watched them, the figure moved out of sight, and the window was empty.

She felt disappointed, though she could not say why. Perhaps she simply wished to see another person in this empty place. It was beautiful, to be sure, but she had never gone so long without seeing another living creature in her life!

The path brought her to a set of marble steps, and beyond that was a massive wooden door. It would take a man of great strength to move such a door. Belle could see no other entrance to the castle, unless she took it upon herself to climb up to one of the windows, and it hardly seemed the proper way to enter someone’s home. 

Besides, if this man, Rumplestiltskin, lived up to the stories that were whispered about him, then he must be used to visitors by now.

There was no bell-rope or knocker. Belle reached out grasped one of the heavy iron rings that served as door-handles to use as a makeshift knocker. Hardly had she touched the thing when the door gave a mighty creak and began to swing inward under her hand. Belle’s mouth fell ajar when she saw the heavy door move at her slightest touch. 

"Hello?" she called, her voice echoing in the darkness beyond the door. She did not feel at ease entering such a place. Was she to wait for someone to greet her, or was this invitation to enter on her own? She did not want to offend the master of the castle by stepping into to his domain without permission.

The moment she had the thought, light burst in the room from all sides. Belle released the door to cover her eyes. As quickly as the light had come, it faded until it was tolerable enough to see by. Belle lowered her hand and stepped into the room despite herself, drawn by the splendor. It was as if dozens of unseen windows had been uncovered in an instant. The light glittered on the polished marble of the room.

The room was not so large as it had seemed. There was a table at the center, upon which stood a tall vase. It was empty. Belle puzzled at this and stepped closer to look.

As soon as she was clear of the door, it slammed shut behind her. Belle whirled on the spot to stare at it. She had seen no one. The wind was not strong enough to blow it shut - but then, it had opened at her touch, so who knew what could have closed it?

Belle turned once more. Her gaze was drawn across the room. There were two sets of stairs, going in opposite directions. She could see no other way. 

"Hello?" she called again. "Is anyone there?"

~

Rumplestiltskin knew when the door had shut. He knew when the girl stepped further into the castle and called out to the empty air. It would have been hard for him to explain to someone who had never used magic. He saw, but did not see. He heard, but did not hear.

He listened to her voice echo in the vaults of the castle and smiled a small, secretive smile.

"Oh no, dearie," he whispered over his work table. "You’ll have to come to me, I’m afraid."

He heard her on the stairs much earlier than he anticipated. She was not the fastest in finding his little hideaway, but neither was she the slowest. He had no small amount of respect for a lone girl who could navigate his castle without losing her nerve.

"Hello?" an uncertain voice called up the steps. Rumplestiltskin’s smile broadened. It had been so long since he’d had anyone to play with.

"Up here, dearie!" he called cheerfully, putting down the potion he had been working on. He turned and clasped his hands together as she ascended the last step. 

He saw her before she saw him. She wore a green cloak, under which he could see a blue dress of fine cloth, though plainly made. The hood of the cloak had been thrown back to reveal brown locks, tousled from her long climb, and her cheeks were flushed from the exercise. 

She looked up as he observed her, and Rumplestiltskin found himself fixed by a pair of bright blue eyes. He was startled by the strength of her gaze. What startled him more, however, was the way her face flashed into a smile as she saw him.

"How do you do?" Belle said cordially. She held her skirt back and swept herself into a curtsy. "I hope I haven’t disturbed you, sir?"

She looked up as she said this, and he was struck by how tiny she was. He could see she was not entirely at ease to be standing in his tower, yet she stood her ground and waited for his response, watching him with that unwavering stare.

He waved a hand dismissively. He could not allow anyone the advantage here.

"Not at all, dearie. I’m always willing to hope those in need of my services," Rumplestiltskin said airily. He walked around his work table until he stood on one side and she on the other and busied himself with some of the glass flask. He found the vantage point was excellent for examining his customers.

"Now, what can I help you with today?" Rumplestiltskin lifted a vial from the table and looked up, leering rather. He regretted it when he saw the color had left her face.

She bit her lip before opening her mouth to speak, hesitantly.

"My name is Belle. I came to you because I…I had heard that you have a way of mending a broken heart?" she asked, almost whispering, and her eyes were shining.

His hand tightened around the vial he held almost viciously as he stood up, his face plastered in an artificial grin.

"Ah, love, is it? Is it True Love?" Rumplestiltskin asked, whisking around the table until he stood before her.

The girl did not recoil at his sudden proximity, but she frowned at his question.

"What’s the difference?" Belle asked.

Rumplestiltskin gave an amused “Hmm” and moved away again, turning his back on her to focus on his flasks. 

"So, not True Love, then," he said.

"What do you mean?" the girl asked, sounding annoyed.

He turned back to find her watching him closely. It was more than many would dare, glowering at the Dark One.

"If it was True Love, you would know without being told," Rumplestiltskin said breezily, gesturing one hand at her.

She considered his answer, frowning.

"All right," she said eventually, and he looked up. She did not waver, but there was a pained look in her eyes. "It’s not True Love, but it is love, nonetheless. Will you help me?"

He gave a twittering laugh and moved closer, almost dancing.

"That depends. I can help you, but how can you help me?" Rumplestiltskin asked, circling her.

She turned, following him as he moved, and her skirt brushed against his leg.

"I have gold," Belle said.

Rumplestiltskin twirled so he could walk in the opposite direction. He liked this little game. He felt like a cat with a mouse dangling from its paw, and the mouse was watching him with such a naive expression.

"But I have gold in spades," he countered. "What do you have that no one else can give me?"

Her brow wrinkled, and he found it adorable. Not a mouse at all. A rabbit, watching him with its little nose twitching, and he was the wolf, waiting for his chance to strike.

"What would you want?" she asked, her voice small. They were very close now.

He stopped abruptly, and she followed suit. Her skirt spun on, wrapping itself around his leg, and he could feel it there, as if reluctant to fall away.

"Ah," Rumplestiltskin said, waving a warning finger in her face. "I can only take that which is freely given."

She did not so much as bat an eyelash.

"And what could I give you?" Belle asked, looking at him with more determination than he ever could have dared in his mortal lifetime. 

She made him nervous. Giddy, even. He gave her credit for not falling into the same trap that so many others did, promising anything in exchange for something they might not want tomorrow, but he was sure he knew the one thing that would send this brave girl running back to wherever it was she came from.

He still held his hand by her face. Rumplestiltskin reached out and laid a finger across her lips.

"How about a kiss?" he asked, his voice low. She could not know the thoughts that played on his mind at that moment, the hatred and self-doubt that plagued his mind as he thought of another brave woman like this, one who had scorned him as a lowly, humble creature. 

He offered a kiss, knowing full well she would refuse, take offense at his presumption, and swear never to accede to such a request. All for the better. He’d had enough of penniless maidens parading their broken hearts before him.

Belle blinked at him. She pulled away from his touch. His lips twitched at the corners, and he waited.

But she only looked at him with the same puzzled expression as before.

"Is that all?" she asked.

He felt as if his stomach had done a somersault. Gone were the leering glances. Rumplestiltskin looked at her as if he had never seen such a creature in his life. He let out a sound that was somewhere between a wheeze and a sigh. When she returned his look with one of concern, he quickly twirled away and gathered himself, stalking to his table under the pretense of work.

"Don’t sell yourself short, dearie!" he said brightly, though the look on his face was one of near agony.

He searched among the rabble of glassware for the smallest vial he had on hand. It was full of water - ordinary, but it would do for his purposes. He turned, his perpetual grin once more in place, and held the vial aloft.

"A kiss in return for forgetting your love. It’s a fair deal, don’t you think?" Rumplestiltskin asked, stepping closer. His voice was almost back to its normal pitch as he set eyes on her.

His smile slipped off entirely at her expression. She looked as if he’d slapped her across the face.

"I’ll forget?" Belle asked.

Rumplestiltskin pursed his lips awkwardly and lowered the vial, clutching it in his hands like a guilty schoolboy twisting his cap.

"I’m afraid it’s the best I can do, dearie. Affairs of the heart are not easily resolved," he explained, lowering his eyes.

When he chanced to look at her, she was not watching him, but the vial in his hands. Noticing his attention, she looked at him with a torn expression.

"And you’re certain it will work?" she asked.

He gave a tight swallow and nodded.

"You have my word," Rumplestiltskin promised.

"Then…" she began, crossing the short distance between them. She spoke breathlessly, and her eyes were wide as she turned her face up at him.

His shoulders stiffened, and he resisted the urge to step back. She couldn’t really mean it, could she?

When he made no move, Belle stepped even closer and raised her hands to rest on his shoulders.

For balance, some part of him realized, for she was even shorter than he, and he was no great man. Such a tiny thing she was, and her hands were so light.

Belle stood on tiptoe, pressing gently on his shoulders until he bent to meet her, and then their lips were touching. He saw her eyes flutter closed and allowed his own to follow suit. How long had it been since he had touched someone like this? Since someone else had sought him out this way? He dared not take a breath, yet his pulse was racing.

Rumplestiltskin felt a warmth in his face. At first he thought it was her breath, but that could not be. He pulled away, eyes still closed, and winced as the warmth began to spread and burn his flesh.

"Oh!" he heard Belle cry. His eyes flew open. She was watching him with alarm, her eyes wide.

"Your face…" she said hesitantly, as if she did not understand what was happening.

He flew away from her and searched for something, anything, that might let him look at his own face. Their were no mirrors in this room, never here.

The only surface he could find was a window. Rumplestiltskin started away from the glass when he saw his reflection. He had never loved his reflection, but what he saw now truly horrified him. The eyes that gazed back from the window were wide and fearful. Worse, they were human, the same dull brown that had stared back at him from his reflection for all his mortal life.

"What have you done?" Rumplestiltskin demanded, whirling to face the girl. She backed away from the fury on his face.

"I-I don’t know," she stammered.

"What - have - you -done?" he repeated, crossing the room to take hold of her arms. She flinched at the touch and tried to move away, but he tightened his grip.

"I’m sorry!" Belle cried, and there were tears forming in her eyes. Less angry, he might’ve taken more care of her, but furious as he was, the twist of guilt he felt on seeing her tears only made him angrier still. She seemed to sense this, for she gave another tug at his hold and keened in a low voice, "I didn’t mean any harm!"

The fright in her voice brought him to his senses. Rumplestiltskin released the girl and allowed her to stumble away, rubbing her arms where he had held her so ruthlessly. No doubt they would bruise.

"Get out," he said.

Belle looked at him as if he’d struck her, shock writ large on her features. The tears that had threatened were now brimming - the sight of them made him grit his teeth.

"Get out!" he shouted, advancing on the girl and waving her off. She backed away until she was on the steps, staring at him with a face full of hurt. He shouted at her again and she turned, her cape a whirl of green as she fled down the stairs. 

He went to his table and swept everything within reach onto the floor. He heard the crash of the glass and felt the broken pieces cascade on his feet, but all of it was drowned by the distant sense of her, running through his castle. 

He knew when she reached the door, knew when it slammed shut behind her. Rumplestiltskin resisted the urge to go to the window for one last glimpse of her. What had she done to him?

Gingerly, he touched his face. What had she done to him?


End file.
